


Fairy Dust

by OBFrankenfics



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: Bonus korrasami, F/F, Utter ridiculousness, bonus root x shaw
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:21:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 19,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4778528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OBFrankenfics/pseuds/OBFrankenfics
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Cophine smut drabbles gifted to various members of OBFrankenfics by the Birthday Smut Fairies. The Fairies apologize for nothing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Nun Smut

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HaughtBreaker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaughtBreaker/gifts), [LadyZephyr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyZephyr/gifts), [arabybizarre](https://archiveofourown.org/users/arabybizarre/gifts), [twig_height](https://archiveofourown.org/users/twig_height/gifts), [tatarrific](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tatarrific/gifts), [trylonandperisphere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/trylonandperisphere/gifts), [tumblweed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tumblweed/gifts), [kind-of-always-late (intransient_adventure)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/intransient_adventure/gifts), [jaybear1701](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaybear1701/gifts), [clonesanity](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clonesanity/gifts), [thecirclesquare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thecirclesquare/gifts).



> These drabbles were anonymously sent to the tumblr ask boxes of OBF members on their birthdays. Kudos to anyone who correctly guesses the identity of the smut fairy! (The Fairy also thanks Nic for the title suggestion.)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For OTP324B21.

Cosima sneaks inside Delphine's cold, dark cell, careful not to wake the other sisters. Delphine is already in bed. Slowly, Cosima removes the black veil, white coif, tunic, and sleeves that have disguised her for the past few weeks. Slipping underneath a thin, scratchy blanket, Cosima presses her body against the blonde undercover detective only to find Delphine already hot and naked and wanting.

"The trial won't be long now," Delphine whispers into Cosima's neck, her hands already roaming across every inch of exposed skin, squeezing supple flesh, and teasing every point of sensitivity. "A few more days and we'll be out of here."

"That's too bad," Cosima says, gasping when Delphine's fingers slide into her most sacred place. "I think I might actually miss this place."


	2. GO Train Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For LadyZephyr.

Buzzed and giddy, Cosima and Delphine rode the last commuter train back to Toronto after enjoying a Hendrix dinner party in Scarborough. At such a late hour, the rail car was deserted and Cosima was feeling frisky. 

"You know what I've always wanted to do?" Cosima murmured into the crook of Delphine's neck. 

"What, ma cherie?" Delphine was having a hard time concentrating with the way Cosima was kissing and nibbling along her skin.

"I've always wanted to fuck on a train," Cosima breathed into Delphine's ear, capturing the blonde's lobe between her lips. 

"Cosima, non, I don't think that's a good idea," Delphine tried to protest, but she was already shivering from Cosima's touch and spreading her legs in anticipation as Cosima trailed a hand underneath her skirt and up her trembling thigh.

"It'll be quick," Cosima assured, pulling aside Delphine's underwear and sliding her fingers in velvet heat. "I promise."


	3. Wedding Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For arabybizarre.

"Mon amour, you know they say it is bad luck for us to see each other before the wedding," Delphine says even as she pulls Cosima into her dressing room. 

"I didn't think you believed in that stuff," Cosima grins, pushing Delphine onto a chaise lounge and hiking up the skirt of her satin wedding dress.

"I don't," Delphine gasps when she feels Cosima's lips teasing the edges of her garter. "But I thought it might deter you from your," Delphine's breath hitches as Cosima slides her tongue up her inner thigh, "predisposition to..." She loses her train of thought the closer the heat from Cosima's mouth reaches her core, desire coiling tighter and begging for release. 

"My predisposition to what exactly?" Cosima pauses and Delphine groans in frustration. She can hear the grin in her fiancee's voice. 

"Just don't ruin the dress," Delphine says, pulling Cosima to where she needs her most and hoping that the chimes of the wedding bells will be loud enough to mask her cries of pleasure.


	4. Stuffed With Fluff Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For twig-height. Sort of a continuation to [Stuffed With Fluff](http://archiveofourown.org/works/3595212).

Cosima pushes Delphine down into the fluffy softness of her down pillows and straddles her hips, lifting her shirt over her head in one smooth motion. Having had an inkling of where the evening would end, she was already braless, bare before Delphine’s hungry gaze. The blonde squeezes her waist and skims her hands up her sides to gently cup her breasts. Cosima closes her eyes and moans when Delphine kneads her tender flesh, gasping when Delphine surges up and captures a nipple between her lips while still cradling Cosima in her lap. A jolt of pure pleasure shoots straight to Cosima’s core and her hips reflexively jerk and roll in a desperate search for more friction.

With a surprising amount of strength, Delphine suddenly lifts Cosima and flips her onto the mattress, mouth sparking a trail of heat down Cosima’s stomach, adding fuel to the flames of her passion. Just as Delphine’s tongue is about to quench her blazing desire, Cosima pauses, noticing two pairs of innocent little black eyes staring at them, judging them for defiling each other in their presence.

“Delphine.” Cosima groans, grasping the sides of the blonde’s head to stop her. “Delphine wait."

“What’s wrong, ma Cherie?” Delphine asks, worried. “Am I doing something wrong? Do you want me to stop?” 

“No!” Cosima exclaims. “No. I want this. I want you. I just…” She looks at the two silent observers. “I can’t do this with them watching.”

Brow furrowed in confusion, Delphine follows her gaze to the stuffed monkey and giraffe smiling at them from her nightstand.

“Oh,” Delphine breathes out in relief. She reaches out and turns the stuffed animals around so that they faced the far wall. “Better?” Delphine asks, settling once again between Cosima’s thighs. 

“Better,” Cosima moans as Delphine’s mouth descends once again and Cosima feels like she’s accelerating down a runway and soaring into the clouds.


	5. Happy Canon Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For tatarrific. She's lucky she didn't get graveyard smut.

Delphine looked into Cosima’s warm eyes and she heard music, a gentle melody, a balm for her soul. Her heart relaxed and swayed to the mellow strain as she brought their mouths together, Cosima’s sweet taste melting on her tongue. She kissed the tip of Cosima’s nose, the curve of her cheeks, the arches of her eyebrows, the silky skin of her forehead. She pressed her lips along Cosima’s hairline, her temples, and all along her jawline, until she reached that one spot, just below Cosima’s ear, that always made Cosima gasp with just the right amount of pressure.

Despite her own tightly coiled desire straining for release, Delphine took her time in reacquainting herself with her lover’s body after they had spent so much time apart.

She nipped at the sensitive skin of Cosima’s inner wrist, felt her pulse stutter against her lips. She let her hands roam and explore, gliding her palms down Cosima’s arms, skimming her nails up along her spine, caressing every inch of heated flesh. It was only after Cosima was trembling with barely controlled want that Delphine--finally--interlocked their legs, intertwined their fingers, and rocked their hips together. The electrifying heat from that initial friction alone was nearly enough to undo them both. Cosima’s eyelids fluttered shut, but Delphine breathed out, _Mon amour. Look at me._

Cosima obeyed, eyes shining with so much love and adoration that Delphine’s heart swelled to the point of bursting. They moved as one, looking deeply into each other’s eyes until they became unfocused, the pleasure overwhelming them both in a sharp crescendo that continued to echo in Delphine’s head long after Cosima shut her eyes and cried out her name.

 

 


	6. Iceland Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For trylonandperisphere.

Cosima shivers. Uncontrollably. And not in the good kind of way. Burrowing as deeply as she can inside a double sleeping bag, its down-feather stuffing doing little to ward off the subfreezing temperature chilling her to the very core of her bones, Cosima wonders what possessed her to agree to stay in an actual snow igloo while visiting Cal, Kira, and Kendall in Iceland.

She’s sure frozen crystals are forming on the tips of her eyelashes. And the tingling numbness in her fingers and toes? She’s convinced it signals oncoming frostbite. Before Cosima can succumb to death’s frigid embrace, the reason for her current predicament ambles through the icy arch of the igloo’s entrance.

Wrapped in a jet black velour robe, Delphine doesn’t look the slightest bit uncomfortable. She moves without the slightest care in the world, as if their room is a warm and cozy 77 degrees. Delphine lifts an eyebrow at Cosima, who squints right back. Cosima had taken off her glasses earlier, hating the way they fogged up inside the sleeping bag. 

“Something wrong, mon amour?” Delphine asks, a knowing smirk on her face.

“W-what could p-possibly be wrong?” Cosima stutters in response. “I’m only, like, f-f-freezing my ass off.” 

Delphine chuckles. “It’s not that cold, Cosima.” 

The brunette shakes her head. “After everything w-we went through to cure me from the c-clone plague,” Cosima says, “you’ll be s-s-sorry when I die from hypothermia.”

Delphine rolls her eyes. “If you would stop being so dramatic, I might be able to help warm you up.”

“Is that right?” Cosima’s teeth chatter. “How?” Instead of answering, Delphine unties her robe and lets it fall to the floor in a soft heap. She stands above Cosima, wearing nothing but a languid smile and her favorite strap-on, an elongated gourd ribbed for maximum pleasure.

Cosima’s mouth forms a silent, “Oh,” as Delphine pulls back the sleeping bag flap and quickly slides inside. Delphine’s skin feels hot, molten, and this time a pleasant shiver runs through Cosima’s body as molds herself against Delphine’s heat. Delphine wastes no time in kissing and caressing every inch of Cosima, causing the temperature of Cosima’s blood to rise quickly with her desire, extremities now tingling with regained sensation. Anticipation building, she feels Delphine position herself between her thighs, a silky hardness teasing at the slick folds of her core. 

“Wait,” Cosima gasps, gripping Delphine’s slim shoulders to still her. 

“What is it, mon amour?” Delphine practically moans the question, her voice thick with want.

“Did you remember to bring the babelube?” Cosima asks.

Delphine laughs suddenly. “Of course,” she says. “You know I’d never leave home without it. But…” Delphine slowly thrusts inside Cosima, who cries out as she feels Delphine’s length filling her completely. “I don’t think we’ll be needing it tonight.”


	7. Home Improvement Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For tumblweed.

Delphine’s body arched in ecstasy, the back of her head thumping back against the freshly painted wall of her future family room. Her blonde locks would be smeared in light, neutral gray, but she didn’t care. She was incapable of caring about anything other than Cosima, who thrust inside her in a slow, driving rhythm that made Delphine’s thighs tremble and her toes curl.

The room was filled with the scent of paint fumes and sawdust, but all Delphine could breathe in was Cosima, all sweet earth and smoky incense. All she could hear was the intimate press of flesh on flesh and Cosima’s harsh pants against her ear. All she could taste was herself on Cosima tongue. Pleasure built deep within Delphine’s core, expanding in intensity as Cosima ground against her.

The strap-on slid in and out with smooth friction until Delphine lost herself in blinding, mind-numbing, white-hot pleasure, muscles seizing and clenching in wild abandon. Her knees gave out and it was only Cosima’s surprising strength that kept them upright. As she rode out the last waves, Delphine heard Cosima chuckle against the skin of her throat.

“Told you I knew how to work a drill shaft,” Cosima said.

Delphine rolled her eyes and ignored the bad innuendo. “I never doubted that you were handy, mon amour,” Delphine said, pushing Cosima away slightly so she could look deeply into the hazel-brown she loved so much. “I just thought it’d be easier to hire someone for the renovations.” 

Cosima leaned forward and kissed her languidly, her lips soft and gentle. “It would be easier,” Cosima acknowledged after she pulled away with a sigh, “but I wanted to build something that was all ours. And just ours. Together. Is that so bad?”

Delphine felt her heart flutter in her chest. “Non,” she said, resting her forehead against her wife’s. 

“But at this rate,” Delphine eyed their current state of undress and the now ruined paint job, “you’ll never be finished.” 

Cosima grinned. “Then we’d better get busy, Dr. Cormier. We have a long night ahead of us.”


	8. Farmers Market Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For kind-of-always-late.

Cosima drags her tongue through glistening flesh, achingly slow, and feels a thrill of satisfaction when Delphine’s breath hitches and her thighs tremble. 

“You were right,” Cosima murmurs, already intoxicated by the sweetness of Delphine’s arousal. “You do have the best offering at this farmers market.” 

Delphine lets out a low groan of frustration that seems to echo in the empty trailer of her produce truck. “This is the only free sample you’re getting today, ma cherie,” Delphine says, lifting her hips toward Cosima’s grinning mouth. “Better enjoy it while it lasts.” 

Cosima lowers her head to continue savoring the plaint softness of Delphine’s heat when she pauses. “The only one?” She asks impishly. “I dunno, Delphine, that one girl with the spicy cheese puffs looked like she’d be willing to give me a free sample.”

“Perhaps.” Delphine tangles her fingers in Cosima’s dreads. “But I assure you, mon amour, nothing is as delicious and nutritious as mine.”

Cosima can no longer argue, not when Delphine wantonly tugs her head back down so that Cosima’s tongue once again presses intimately against Delphine’s slick desire. She slips two fingers inside Delphine, who hisses in pleasure as she sets a smooth, steady rhythm that has Delphine crying out in ecstasy so loudly that it startles the customers perusing the organic kombucha at a nearby booth.


	9. Home Buying + Assassination Smut (lol)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For jaybear1701.

“They can’t possibly serious?! Shit!” Cosima half whined and half groaned. She pushed her chair back violently from the desk.

“What? What is it, mon amour?” Delphine asked, her brow slashed by a crease of worry.

“They want more documentation!” Cosima was incredulous. “Seriously, I sent them like twenty yesterday!

“Calm down, Cosima.” Her wife rose from the couch and came to her side; she knelt in front of the chair, grasping the frustrated woman’s hand. “What does it say? What do they want?”

“More information about my old apartment.” Cosima rolled her eyes and shook her head. “If I’d known that letting Felix sublet would have caused so much trouble…” she trailed off… “Hell, If I knew buying a house would be this complicated…”

“Its alright my love.” Delphine reassured her. “We’ll just send them what they need.”

“Seriously though. Like someone should really lay this all out before you start the process. Fuck my assets!” she exclaimed, “We make enough money; just give us the house!”

“Fuck your assets?” Delphine cajoled; she moved her hands to Cosima’s thighs, slowly letting her fingers slide upward under the other woman’s skirt, enjoying the cut out texture of her grey tights.

“I think that can be arranged.” She teased Cosima’s warmth with an errant digit.

“Delphine, stop. I’m really not in the mood.” Her tone was apologetic.

“I think I can help with that.” Delphine rose to her feet, hands still resting on Cosima’s thighs; she bent in to kiss the other woman’s neck first, then just behind her ear.

“No fair…” Cosima complained half-heartedly.

“What?” Delphine asked innocently, “Am I not allowed to comfort you?”

She squeezed the flesh of Cosima thighs just barely below her hips.

“Well,” Cosima reconsidered as her wife turned one hand over and pressed against her center. “I guess our vows did say for better or worse…”

She tilted her chin upward and caressed the taller woman’s features with her eyes. Delphine could feel Cosima’s arousal, dampening her tights. She ached to touch her wife, to taste her wetness, to fill her, to tease her until she almost begged for release.

“Mmmhmmm.” Delphine hummed, bringing their mouths millimeters apart. “Come.” she whispered, standing up tall and reaching out for Cosima’s hand.

“So that’s your plan, huh?” Cosima gave her wife the mischievous half smile that meant she was not going to resist. “To get me to come?”

“C’est vrai.” Delphine winked. “Toujours.” She took Cosima by the hand and led her down the hall, adding coyly, “unless you would rather wait until things are settled with the bank.”

“Hell no, we may never have sex again if we did that!” Cosima observed, as they crossed into the room that was destined to be their bedroom for only ten more days. She sat on the edge of the bed, hands on the mattress at her sides. Delphine approached and straddled her lap, pressing her backwards, laying her down and then kissing the length of her neck and the flat plain of her chest. Cosima groaned then whispered, “Tell me again what you wanted to do to my assets!”

 

***

BONUS!

***

 

A grunt escaped Cosima’s mouth as she was slammed against the door a little harder than she expected. She went with it as her hands ripped the blonde’s shirt open with the soft pops of thread giving way and buttons hitting the floor. She could feel the mark already forming from sharp teeth on her neck as her dress was gathered up around her waist, strong fingers slipping down the front of her tights and deep into her without warning.

“Fuck.”

Her own hand slipped through blonde tresses, fisting in the straight locks as the other hand pushed the taller woman down. Delphine was not going to argue with the request as she pulled the brunette’s tights down, her tongue greedily slipping between slick folds to taste the copious nectar she found. 

“Are they doing the nasty again?”

The brunette looking through the scope of a rifle lowered her gun, sighing softly as she glanced sideways out of the corner of her eyes at the woman who was sitting beside her, binoculars now pressed to her own eyes as she looked into the hotel room. “Aren’t they always, Root?” 

Putting the binoculars down, Root pulled the rifle from the woman’s hands, setting it aside before peeling off her leather jacket. “Let them have their fun, Shaw,” she commented, swinging her leg over the firm abdomen. “You can kill them tomorrow.” She pulled her sleeveless top up and off, tossing it to the side along with her bra, nipples hardening from the chill of the night air. “You know assassination always gets me hot.” She commented just before warm lips and a hot tongue brushed across her breast.


	10. Bike Smut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For Clonesanity

 

"Ow." Cosima complained as she ripped the helmet off her head. "I knew those pedals were cheap." 

A smirk danced across Delphine's features, the first aid kit in her hands as she sat on the coffee table, taking the woman's leg onto her lap and looking at the scraped shin. "It's just a scratch, ma cherie." She made quick work of wiping away the blood with an alcohol swab.

"Ow ow ow!" Shifting uncomfortably, Cosima's brow furrowed at the pain in her leg, her fingers clamped around the bike helmet. 

"Awww." Delphine rolled her eyes as she leaned forward, blowing lightly on the torn skin.

As hazel eyes looked up at her through long lashes, Cosima swallowed, pain no longer the most obvious sensation.

Another smirk and Delphine was pressing the bandage to the scrape, leaning forward to press her lips against the brunette's. "Feel better?"

"I don't know. There might be a hidden injury; I think I might be in need of a full examination."

Hands running up spandex-covered thighs, Delphine pressed her body against the smaller woman's. "Lucky you, I'm a doctor." 

"Lucky me." Cosima groaned, her thighs spreading wider as the hand slid down the front of her shorts, a gasp slipping past her lips as sure fingertips caressed the slick flesh. 

"Non." Delphine ran the tip of her tongue along the edge of the soft ear, her fingers pressing into the velvet depths. "Lucky me."

 


	11. Cronut Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For thecirclesquare.

Delphine can tell Cosima’s close by the way her thighs begin to tremble and she lifts her hips to grind herself harder against Delphine’s mouth. Smiling, Delphine continues with her slow, agonizing pace, delicately tracing the elements of the periodic table on Cosima’s hot, quivering sex. Delphine finally reaches Polonium, swirling the flat of her tongue to form the capital P and little o, and Cosima jerks and gasps out.

“God, Delphine,” she moans. “Please.”

Smirking, Delphine licks the underside of Cosima’s clit and then firmly sucks on it, hard, enjoying the strangled cry she pulls from Cosima lungs as she slides to two fingers inside velvet heat. Cosima comes with Delphine’s name on her tongue, her body stiffening and then undulating in waves upon waves of pure pleasure.

Delphine slides up Cosima body and kisses her deeply. “I have to go,” she says, nuzzling the tip of Cosima’s nose.

“What? Already?” Cosima groans. “But I haven’t had a chance to eat my breakfast yet.” Cosima waggles her eyebrows and Delphine chuckles as she tries to extricate herself from her girlfriend’s limbs.

“You know I have to meet with Sarah this morning.”

Cosima rolls her eyes. “Sarah can wait.”

“Cosima…” Delphine stands and starts smoothing the wrinkles from her slacks and buttoning up her blouse.

“What if I told you I have something for you.”

Delphine’s hands pause. “Oh? Like what?”

Cosima grins and hops out of bed, not having a care in the world that she is stark naked as she saunters over to the kitchen. “A cronut.”

“A what?”

“Cronut.” Cosima pulls a small box out of the fridge and walks back toward Delphine. “It’s a croissant slash donut.” She opens the box and Delphine can’t help but peek inside. “Crisp and flaky. Heavenly soft on the inside. Buttery and sugary. Delicious.”

Despite herself, Delphine’s mouth begins to water. “No, Cosima, I really have to go,“ she protests weakly just as her stomach begins to growl.

“C’mon.” Cosima’s smile grows even wider. “Don’t you want to know?”

“Know what?”

“What they taste like?” Cosima picks one up and bites into it oh so slowly, moaning much more loudly than she had not two minutes ago. A small bit of red filling stains the corner of her lips. "You _must_ want to know."

Something snaps inside Delphine and she lunges forward, slipping her tongue inside Cosima's mouth to savor any lingering sweetness. She's delighted when the tart flavor of cherries tantalizes her taste buds and now she’s not quite sure what she wants more: Cosima or the cronut.

Cosima pulls back, breathless. “What about Sarah?”

“Sarah can wait,” Delphine says gruffly as she lets hunger take control.

 


	12. Disneyland Smut with a Side of Korrasami

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Jenna1023 on her birthday from the smut fairy

“It’s pretty genius if you think about it.” Cosima observed. “Rebranding a section of your park with a new movie or franchise is a hell of a lot less expensive that ripping everything apart and remodeling it!”

Delphine scanned the line of people that wound through the ropes, rails and stanchions, trying to deduce exactly how long it was, how far it might stretch, and how much time it might be before they made it inside the building and escaped the sweltering August heat. “I suppose you are right.” she agreed, noticing the drop of perspiration that had gathered at her lover’s temple, ready to fall. She despised being hot, but she did appreciate the view of Cosima’s body that was afforded by her tank top and running shorts.

“Of course I am.” Cosima was still thoroughly caught up in her own analysis of the situation. “You want to drum up interest in that ancient rocket ride? Major motion picture! Parents remember the ride when they see the movie; kids remember the movie when they see the ride and suddenly your snoozer of a centerpiece becomes a major attraction!”

The line and the women inched forward with the slowly advancing crowd. “And even this ride. Like after 1985, kids didn’t care about pirates! They cared about robots and space ships and no one wanted to go on this ride. So what do you do?’

Delphine listened intently to Cosima, an affectionate smirk across her face and adoration in her eyes. She really admired Cosima’s intelligence and when her girlfriend embarked on these analytical tirades she always found herself quite aroused. “Tell me, chérie.” she insisted, playfully, grabbing Cosima’s wrist and pulling her close. The brunette smirked at their proximity, but was undeterred in making her point. She continued.

“You can’t very well tear out an attraction that a fifth of your theme park sits on top of now can you?” There was a dramatic pause and Delphine shook her head in reply.

“Of course not that would cost hundreds of millions of dollars and take months to restore. And it would disrupt the entire Disney experience for the hundreds of thousands of tourists who were expecting to visit The Happiest Place on Earth. Nothing is less happy that masking walls and jackhammers! So you hire Gore Verbinski and Johnny Depp to make your crappy little ride the coolest experience at the park! A fog curtain, some cleverly incorporated tableaus, and a few animatronic Jack Sparrows… suddenly everyone is in love again with Pirates! I mean look at this line!”

Delphine followed Cosima’s line of sight and then they came back together.

“Is that all?” she asked.

Cosima ran through her major talking points in her mind. ‘Yep. I’m done.” she confirmed grinning and then turned to follow the line, which was moving again.

“Perhaps, chérie,” Delphine ventured, walking close behind her, “you would prefer to skip this ride since it has been so corrupted.”

“Hell no,” Cosima declared. “I never said it was bad, just genius! And I love that dog… and the cannon balls.” She clapped her hands and her tongue peeked out from between her teeth. Her eagerness was practically childlike, and Delphine was keenly aware again of how intriguing a creature she had fallen in love with. How could one person be both so erudite and so infantile in the span of a minute? “and, babe…” the brunette added, “It’s Jack Sparrow!”

Delphine laughed out loud.

It was another ten minutes before the line led them inside. The moment they were out of the midday heat they sighed audibly. The air conditioning blew artic blasts against the walls that bounced back and glanced over their hot and sweaty bodies. It was mere minutes before the flesh everywhere on their bodies began tightening. Pores that were open moments before slammed shut to preserve body heat. Delphine felt her nipples tighten; she could see the change in temperature had had the same effect on her girlfriend. Her hand began to move of its own volition to reach out, palm flat, to feel the woman’s straining flesh through the thin fabric of her shirt. God she loved that feeling! But the numbers of children and families surrounding them stopped her. She smiled at Cosima who smiled back. She wanted Cosima. Now.

She leaned in close, her front side pressed up against Cosima’s back. “I want you.” She felt Cosima’s double take.

“What? Here?” Cosima was a little incredulous. And a little amused.

“Well, obviously not right here.” Delphine sassed back. ‘The children might find it upsetting. But soon, Cosima. Soon.”

“Oh my God.” Cosima whispered, “you want to do it at Disneyland?”

“I want to have sex with you; I don’t really care where we are.” Delphine kissed the shell of Cosima’s ear. Quickly tracing the edge with an eager tongue.

“Oh my God.” Cosima repeated, feeling her core quiver a little at even the suggestion of Delphine’s touch. “You are … amazing.” She found the only word she could ever find to use when the exquisite blonde took her breath away. “After this ride,” she reached back and rubbed her hand on Delphine’s hip and across her ass, “we’ll find a place.” Delphine hummed her pleasure into Cosima’s ear.

“Uh oh,” the riders seemed to utter almost in unison. Some sounded disappointed and some sounded amused; Delphine was simply confused.

“What is happening Cosima?” she whispered into the darkness, leaning close to her girlfriend.

“Not sure, but the ride has stopped.” she whispered back. “It will start again in a minute, I’m sure.” It took no time at all for Delphine to decide on a course of action.

“It’s so dark.” she observed, sliding an arm around Cosima’s shoulders.

“Yeah it is,” she agreed; Delphine could feel Cosima’s breath moving through the air, “and that last drop is right in front of us, too. You can’t see it obvs, but it’s there.”

Delphine turned her body into the seat; she faced Cosima and reached out. She let her hand play inside the low-scooped collar of the other woman’s tank top. Her lips millimeters from Cosima’s ear, she mused, “I wonder, mon amour, what else is there that I just can’t see.” Cosima felt fingertips seeking her nipples. Her breath caught in her throat; then a gentle hand cupped her breast..

“Delphine.” Her voice was tense, but from what Delphine could not discern, so she asked.

“Do you want me to stop?” She made sure to squeeze Cosima’s erect nipple just a bit too hard as she inquired. The other woman was instantly grateful that they had chosen to sit in the back row of the wide boat and that no one had joined them.

“No.” Cosima did not hesitate, she turned her head and captured Delphine’s lips in a kiss; her body also repositioned as she threw an arm around her lover’s neck. The idea of coming from Delphine’s attentions while in the middle of a public place — despite it being nearly pitch black, it was a public place— soaked Cosima in an instant. She moved Delphine’s hand out of her shirt and down to the waistband of her shorts. “No, don’t stop.”

Delphine wasted no time in moving her hands through the barriers that separated fingers from flesh and delighted in the arousal she had already inspired. Mmmmmmmmmm. she hummed as she dipped her fingers lower. Cosima’s body opened for her. She was ready.

Delphine tested Cosima’s discretion. She ran one finger from the drenched opening of her paramour up the center of her sex to her clit flicking a few times at the edge of the hood. Direct contact with her swollen clit often made Cosima yelp. Here in the dark, her body jerked slightly, but she made no sound that might give away their amorous adventure.

“Good, chérie” Delphine whispered, “you must be very quiet.”  
“I will be.” Cosima affirmed; her voice so slight it was barely audible. “Please, babe, hurry.”

Delphine let her two fingers move the length of Cosima’s sex. She used long strokes that went form the base of her fingers to the tips, trying to provide as much stimulation as possible. At the top of each stroke she would rub a few circles around the swollen bundle of nerves set just below the skin and then descend again letting her fingers massage her girlfriend’s engorged g-spot for a moment before she withdrew for the up stroke again. Since they were on a time line not in their own control, Delphine was focused on this rhythm, hoping to make sure Cosima was able to climax efficiently. Her silent quarry tightened her grip around the blonde’s neck, lifting her hips up and into the pressure from Delphine’s talented hands.

Cosima’s hips moved more erratically. She rolled them into her lover’s touch but froze intermittently, pressing against the internal pressure of Delphine’s digits. She was close Delphine could tell. Pumping her fingers more vigorously, Delphine used her thumb now to contact her clit. As she did so, Cosima’s grip on her shoulders tightened and tightened and tightened; a faint whimper or groan, lodged deep in her throat, became more frequent, more desperate, and finally stretched out into a long moan. Cosima kissed Delphine hard as she came undone around her eager fingers. Delphine felt Cosima’s pulsing clit under her thumb and pressed down into it, coaxing every last contraction from her sex.

Cosima, when she regained her breath and her composure, leaned over to Delphine and whispered conspiratorially, impressed by their brazenness, “Dude, we totally just had sex at Disneyland!!”

“Well,” Delphine smirked into the blackness, “Now I understand why it is called the Happiest Place on Earth.”

 

*********** bonus birthday smut**********

Korra has dreamt of this moment for so long, she can hardly believe it’s become reality. Her eyes trail across Asami’s silhouette as she removes the last of pieces of her clothing and drops them atop blankets spread over soft blades of grass. Silver moonlight shimmers through the branches of the secluded bamboo grove, and Korra’s breath hitches at the way it gently illuminates every plane and smooth curve. Asami waits patiently, lovingly, her own affectionate gaze caressing every inch of Korra, who reaches out a hand and slowly draws Asami close.

The first touch of skin-on-skin electrifies Korra and she shivers from pleasure that sparks along her nerve endings and forms a deep well of want within her core. Asami sits cradled in Korra’s lap, her bare legs wrapped around Korra’s waist and slender arms enfolding her in a warm embrace. Skimming her palms up the smooth muscles of Asami’s back, Korra tangles her fingers in raven silk and pulls Asami into a deep kiss.

Asami tastes like summer, warm and sweet and intoxicating, and Korra drinks her in. Breathes her in. Fills each and every sense with Asami until all she can feel is Asami in every fiber of her being. They take their time, a languid exploration of supple flesh with lips and teeth and tongues, with calloused fingertips tracing patterns of reverence.

They savor each gasp, revel in each moan, moving and melding as one until their blood simmers and their movements become desperate. Uncontrolled. Around and beneath them the ground trembles. Flowers erupt from the earth and burst into bloom. The wind picks up, fragrant currents buffeting their glistening skin and swirling white petals around them.

Korra swears her heart throbs out Asami, Asami, Asami with the swell and contraction of each beat. I love you.

In the end, it’s not the rhythm of their coupling that undoes Korra. Nor the friction or slick heat. But the depth of Asami’s eyes as she whispers into the space between them. Four simple words that are anything but.

_Korra, I love you._

Korra’s eyes flash with a brilliant, blinding light as she topples over the edge, bringing Asami with her, the sound of their names ringing out into the stillness of the night, promising always and eternity and forever.


	13. Parents With 77 Kids Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For Cophinaphile.

Cosima woke to fingertips lightly dancing down her spine and a gentle kiss brush across her bare shoulder blade. She smiled when she felt an arm wrap around her waist and pull her back against a pair of breasts, warm and heavenly soft, that molded against the curve of her back.

“Bonjour, mon amour,” Delphine murmured, her breath tickling the shell of her ear.

“Mmm morning.” Cosima grasped one of her hands, brought it up to her lips and kissed her palm, breathing in the faint perfume that still lingered on the inside of Delphine’s wrist. “If I had known before that last night would be the kind of welcome home I’d get after I go on work trips, I’d have gone on so many more.” Lacing their fingers together, she held their joined hands against the steady beat of her heart and cuddled into Delphine’s embrace.

“You were in New Orleans for almost a month.” Delphine nuzzled the back of Cosima’s neck. “I missed you.”

Cosima turned in Delphine’s arms to face her. “I missed you too.” She caressed the tip of Delphine’s nose with her own. “What do you say we keep making up for lost time?”

She watched a slow smile spread across Delphine’s face just as she brought their lips together. Cosima melted into the languorous kiss, taking her time, savoring the way Delphine moaned when she ran her tongue against her bottom lip and shivered when she tugged it between her teeth.

Delphine shifted until she was on top of Cosima, straddling her hips and pressing kisses along Cosima’s jawline. Cosima skimmed her hands halfway up the tensing muscles of Delphine’s back and before pushing herself up into a sitting position. As soon as she captured a taut nipple into her mouth and caused Delphine to buck against her with a quiet gasp, someone banged on the door.

“Mooooooooms!” A squeaky prepubescent voice called from the other side of the bedroom door. “Are you up? Do you know where my cleats are?”

Cosima felt Delphine stiffen in shock against her and she groaned. “Shit, I forgot John had his first soccer practice this morning.”

“It’s okay,” Delphine whispered, “it’s not for a few more hours. He’s just excited.” She cleared her throat. “Try the closest next to the garage, mon chou.”

“Thanks maman!”

Cosima waited for the hyper pitter-patter of their son’s footsteps to disappear down the hall before she pulled Delphine closer. “Now where were we…?”

Cosima slid a hand between their bodies and cupped Delphine’s heat, humming in approval when she found her wife already slick and wanting. She teased Delphine with light circles, building electrified friction, then slowly entered…  

“MOMS!” This time, someone kicked their door and Cosima froze, knuckle deep inside her panting wife. “Jasika is hogging the bathroom. Again!!! I have Jhaiden’s birthday to go to later. Tell her to get out! It’s my turn!”

Cosima stifled a groan and buried her face in the crook of Delphine’s neck. “Aubrey, let your sister have 20 minutes in the bathroom, okay? Then you can break down the door or whatever.”

“UGH! That is SO unfair!” Their daughter let out an overly dramatic growl-like huff and stomped back to her room, punctuating her supreme displeasure with a sharp slam of her bedroom door.

Cosima felt the smile on Delphine’s lips when she pressed them against the side of her head. “Maybe we should get up,” she suggested.

“No!” Cosima protested, tightening her grip around Delphine with her free hand. “I have that cataracts surgery tomorrow and you know I might be out of commission for a while. I’ll, like, die if I have to wait that long.”

“Then who am I to deny you.” Delphine pressed her hips downward, allowing Cosima to sink deeper, and grinded against the heel of her hand.

Cosima began to stroke her, hard and fast, reveling in the way Delphine’s wetness coated her fingers and high-pitched gasps escaped her. She was getting closer and closer to losing control. Cosima could tell by the way Delphine’s thighs quivered and she dug her nails into her skin.

“Cosima, I’m… Oh god…” Delphine’s entire body tensed and a cry tore through the air. But the cry didn’t come from Delphine, who was shuddering in pleasure, clenching around Cosima’s fingers. It was coming from the baby monitor on their nightstand.

Another cry joined the first and suddenly the wailing of two toddlers was blaring from the speaker.

“The twins are up,” Cosima said, gently extricating herself from Delphine when her shivering aftershocks subsided.

“You don’t say,” Delphine breathed out, cupping Cosima’s face and kissing her. "Nothing gets past you, Dr. Niehaus."

Cosima leaned their foreheads together when Delphine pulled away slightly. “Remind me again why we thought five kids was a good idea?”

She felt Delphine’s body vibrate with laughter. “Because we love them and we wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Cosima fussed good-naturedly. "Whatever you say."

Delphine’s expression turned serious and she squeezed her legs around Cosima to keep her in place for a few more moments. “What about you, mon amour?”

“Oh, I think it’s about high time Auntie Alison and Uncle Donnie took the kids for a big ol’ sleep over, don’t you think?” Cosima grinned despite the unsatisfied ache between her legs. “Otherwise, I’ll post that creepy video I managed to get of them twerking in their underwear.”

Delphine smacked her arm playfully. “Brat.” She moved off the bed quickly, slipped into a robe, and walked to the door to take care of their twins.

“That I am,” Cosima grinned lazily and flocked back down onto their pillows. “But you love me.”

Delphine glanced back over her shoulder at her wife, eyes soft and full of affection. “I do.”


	14. You were there, and you were there! smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the crackalicious OBcrack -- keep the fantasy going.

Delphine tried to shift as Rachel sat down next to her on the office couch, but there was nowhere to go. She could feel the length of Rachel's thigh press against her own, Rachel's hands primly folded in her lap as she waited for Delphine to make eye contact. Delphine couldn't. Doing so would betray, to both of them, the tension that filled the office and coursed between them, and Delphine did not want to face the consequences of such denuding of desire best kept deeply, darkly hidden.

Rachel shifted nearly imperceptibly, impatiently, and Delphine's eyes were drawn to a tiny speck visible on her knee, just below the hem of her skirt. It was a birthmark no bigger than the head of a match, barely noticeable and she stared at it, at a loss; has she ever seen a similar, identical mark on Cosima?

"Dr. Cormier," Rachel intoned silkily, bending toward Delphine, "shall we.. come to terms?"

She could feel the clone's breath ruffle the hairs by her ear, but she still kept her head bowed down, resolute not to make a move she would regret.

"Delphine," a warm hand landed on her knee and squeezed, "why don't we--"

The office door opened with a clang, interrupting whatever proposition was about to be made.

Delphine looked at the intruder, eyes widening. "That's enough, Rachel." Marion Bowles, a menacing vision in a sharply tailored suit held the door open, mentioning to Rachel with the other hand. "It's time for you to leave."

Delphine exhaled a breath she wasn't aware she was holding as Rachel stood up, until she felt a ghost of a touch on her shoulder. She looked up and met Rachel's gaze straight on, the woman's eyes achingly familiar.

"Tut-tut." Marion canted her head toward the open door. "Off with you, now. Leekie is waiting for you downstairs."

Their gaze broken, Rachel turned toward the door and left, a sharp staccato of her heels a counterpoint to the sway of her hips. Delphine swallowed, lowering her head again. Did she feel relieved by the intrusion? Or.. disappointed?

"Delphine, you disappoint me." She whipped her head toward Marion, the spoken reflection of her thoughts bewildering. Marion stalked closer, stopping at the foot of the couch. "I have plans for you," Delphine felt a slender finger hook under her chin, forcing her face upward, "and they do not include you.. _cavorting_ with Rachel."

"Marion, I--" she was going to deny, or apologize, unable to interpret the slight upturn at the corner of Marion's mouth, the normally rigid line of her mouth relaxed in an almost smile. The finger moved, however, and a soft, warm pad pressed against her lips, rendering her mute.

"Shhh. We all have needs, Delphine, don't we?" It wasn't a question, not really, though Marion canted her head inquiringly, observing her. Delphine sat rigidly, afraid to shift under the touch of the finger which moved slightly back and forth now, a maddening caress. Instead, she pressed her knees together more tightly, feeling the inner muscles of her thighs clench involuntarily.

"I believe we can come," the finger disappeared, but before Delphine could react, she felt Marion's hand slide along the line of her jaw, fingers threading through the hair at the back of her head, "to a mutually satisfying arrangement, no?"

Marion's eyes were mesmerizing, dark and unflinching as she bent lower, drawing in closer. The hand cradling her head shifted, fisting around the strands of her hair, and Delphine inhaled sharply as the shards of pleasurable pain lodged themselves into the raised peaks of her nipples, the soft hollow between her legs.

She could feel the heat radiating off the older woman’s skin now, mere millimeters separating their lips. Delphine closed her eyes, arching into the contact, every nerve in her body poised for that first, exquisite contac--

“Marion, you are needed downstairs, immediately!” Leekie’s voice boomed through the office intercom, and Delphine’s eyes flew open, a soft groan escaping her lips. Marion’s face was still near, but her features were pinched into a mask of severe annoyance. Slowly, her fingers released its grip on Delphine’s hair, and the hand withdrew as Marion straightened up.

“I will have that man killed.” Marion may have aimed for levity, but her tone was bone dry. She pursed her lips in regret, eyes sweeping down the length of Delphine’s body, then turned and strode toward the door. “I will be back, Delphine, and we will continue this conversation later.”

Alone again, Delphine exhaled shakily, falling against the couch. She clutched at her head, fingers tugging at her hair, a pale facsimile of the sensation from a moment before. What was going on? What possessed her -- and Rachel, and Marion -- to engage like this? And yet, her reaction, her welcome to their overtures was undeniable. Her whole body thrummed, and the throbbing between her legs synced with the erratic beating of her heart. 

Delphine closed her eyes, letting out a long, unsteady breath. She was petrified at the prospect of Marion returning -- but also thrilled, a mere thought of those lips descending on hers enough to send pangs of desire coursing through her.

As though summoned by her thoughts, the door to the office opened with a soft click, and Delphine froze. She opened her eyes slowly, lip caught between her lips-- only for her gaze to fall on Leekie’s lean, shrunken visage.

“Delphine,” he started, walking in with a swagger, “we are finally alone.”

“No.” Delphine shook her head resolutely. “Nope. No.” She continued to shake her head in horror, scrambling off the couch. “No. Non. No way. No, no, no, _no_!”

Leekie followed her, his smile a toothy rictus of old man desire, reaching out for her, his hand descending upon her shoulder.

“Babe, hey, babe,” his hand dug into her shoulder, pulling her closer, “Hey, it’s okay, wake up. It’s just a nightmare, sweetie, wake up.”

“Ah!” She bolted upright in bed, eyes wide in the darkness. A hand rubbed soothing circles across her back, soft murmurs seeking to calm her down. “C-Cosima?”

“Shh, it’s me. It’s okay now, it was just a nightmare.”

“Mon dieu,” she exhaled, pressing her face against her open palms. It had seemed so _real_. So… Her mind flitted across the fading images from her dream, a shot of arousal surging through her again at the memory. She threw herself back onto her pillow with a sigh, eyes screwed shut.

“Hey, you okay?” Cosima laid her head on Delphine’s shoulder, arm thrown around her waist, and pressed a soft kiss against her neck. “Wanna talk about it?”

Delphine shifted slightly, pulling Cosima’s hand up higher, and clasped it to her breast. She could feel the heat radiating off Cosima’s hand through the thin material of her t-shirt, her nipple puckering up in response. “No. No, I don’t. Come here.”

Cosima slid on top of her, pressing their foreheads together, and Delphine groaned in frustration as she felt Cosima’s hand move from her breast. Her frustration was short lived when she felt the hand slide between her thighs.

“Oh,” Cosima exhaled against her lips, “must have been some nightmare.”

“Mmm,” Delphine spread her legs open, pulling her lover in deeper, “I’ll tell you all about it in the morning. “

 

 

 

 

 


	15. Needle Skip

For the awesome Mveloc... sorry we had a busy day here in fairyland

* * *

 

" _You showed me._  
_Where to go_  
_To my home  
__To my h-h-h-ome.."_

"Shit." The small brunette laughed as the needle skipped on the record player, having been jarred slightly by her uncontrolled motion, the backroom of the small record store not offering much room to move around.

"Cosima...quiet."

"Fuck don't stop, Delphine." Cosima groaned, her hand fisting in blonde curls and pulling her closer again. Her breath caught in her throat as the tongue commenced its duty, moving against her as hands wrapped around her thighs, pulling her to the edge of the desk haphazardously, a small stack of 45s hitting the floor beside the blonde's knees. She wanted to cry out, but instead she covered her mouth with her arm, biting into the skin pressed against her lips, trembles running through her body as she was approaching the edge.

This time, when she cried out, Delphine didn't stop. She eagerly pushed her over, feeling the leg slide over her shoulder, pulling her closer. She kept her attentions going until she felt the woman's form slump, the tremors coming in small pulses.

"Shit…" Cosima struggled to catch her breath, biting her bottom lip as she chuckled.

Delphine rose an eyebrow, slipping the leg off her shoulder and pushing herself up to capture soft lips. "Considering I'm the one that just did all the work, you've got a pretty filthy mouth right now."

"We can fix that." Cosima grinned against her lips, her hands working on the belt of the blonde's jeans.

" _COSIMA." The voice came through the door._

"Go away, Alison." Cosima growled, her hand sliding down the front of the blonde's panties, her fingers pressing into slick arousal.

" _Leekie is coming into work today."_

Thin fingers wrapped around her wrist, Delphine's light hazel eyes closing in regret as she removed Cosima's hand from her pants. "Mmmm. That just kills the mood." Delphine licked her lips as she buttoned her jeans again, reaching down to pick up Cosima's panties and tossing it to the brunette.

"Fucking old pervert." Cosima sighed in frustration, sliding the material up her legs before smoothing her skirt down.

Taking the new Foals record off the player and sliding it back into its sleeve, Delphine smiled. "Make sure you come home right after work… so I can thank you sincerely for the record." Leaning forward, she captured lips again, making her intentions very clear.

As teeth raked against her bottom lip, it was everything in her to not pounce on the woman again. "You know it," she whispered, watching the woman walk away with a sensual sway of her hips.


	16. Cosplay Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For OTP324B21.

For the umpteeth time that day, Cosima wished for a big, fat doobie. She'd been working for months putting costumes together for herself and her cosplay squad, and now a seam had ripped, somebody couldn't find their wig, and their Raven had disappeared somewhere in the hotel with no cell phone reception. Unfortunately, she was in a dry state, pot-wise, so she would have to handle the stress without her favorite form of relaxation.

She finished fixing the seam and checked the integrity of the costume.

“Well, I hope that'll hold this piece of shit together, I guess,” she commented, as her friend turned to the mirror to make sure it looked right. There was a burst of music from the Glee soundtrack and Cosima picked up her phone.

“Yeah,” she answered, “of course it was in the last place she looked. What? Oh, for… Look, I can't do this fucking shit again,” she sighed into the phone. “Either she meets us on time or we’ll wait for her by the Steven Universe booth after the panel, or… I dunno, we can do whatever you wanna do…”

Just that moment there was a knock on her guest room door. Her friend answered it. It was their Raven. Finally they could get over to the convention center.

After the first panel, Cosima stood in mute frustration as the rest of the group took forever to decide whether to go back to the hotel or eat somewhere near the center before the afternoon panel. She was tired of the endless back-and-forth without a decision. She didn't really care, but if she didn't get James Marster’s signature on her Funko Pop box, she was going to be pissed. Maybe she should take off by herself.

“I’ve gotta go to the bathroom,” she mumbled, and headed to the loo. Of course there was a huge line.

“Excuse me,” she heard behind her, and turned around. “Is this the line for the bathroom, or for the ‘Men We Don't Care About on Orphan Black’ panel?” the woman asked with an incredibly sexy French accent, and Cosima briefly forgot how to speak. The tall blonde was gorgeous, even with the fake wounds and dirt on her face. She had gotten the costume just right, and it flattered her, the thin braids and locks woven into her loose, golden mane somehow looking hot, rather than unhygenic, and her tight pants emphasizing her perfect ass. A swoon-worthy smile stretched across the woman's face as Cosima failed to produce words for a moment.

“I, eum, I like your costume,” the ridiculously attractive woman said, and reached out to lightly touch where Cosima’s large shoulder piece connected to her cape. “You’re the best Lexa I've seen today. I think we go together well.”

Cosima fought back her disbelief and panic. This woman was not flirting with her. It was not possible.

“You… you’re a really good Clarke,” she finally pushed out.

“Delphine,” the woman offered, and held out her hand to shake. “Enchantée.”

“Cosima,” the brunette answered, just remembering to wipe her sweaty palm on her cape before touching the French woman’s inviting, long, fingers. She had the kind of hands that looked like she knew how to use them. “Enchantée,” Cosima tried, through a smile she couldn't hold back.

Delphine leaned forward, close enough that her breath played across Cosima’s lips. “You know,” she began in a low, suggestive tone, “that war paint looks really good on you. Maybe we should go… get some pictures taken together?”

Several hours later, Cosima’s cosplay “wife” stood agog at the door of the hotel room, where she had left her purse.

“Yes! _Yes!_ ” an accented voice was ringing out through the door and halfway down the hallway. “Pound me! Fuck my slick folds, Cosima, just like that!”

James Marsters would have to wait.


	17. Unemployment/Pregnancy Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For LadyZephyr.
> 
> The birthday smut fairy is sorry this is belated. The fairy also probably ought to cut back on the drugs.

Cosima sighed for the twenty-seventh time that day.  She knew she should be grateful, but she couldn't help but feel edgy during training.  She was supposed to be working in scientific biology research, not as a glorified secretary.  Yet, here she was being told the proper way to handle multiple calls, fill out medical codes and defer all questions to the doctors.  For someone with her drive, skills and curiosity, it was maddening.

 

Still, she should have thought of that before she made out with the head of the immunology department at her last job at the university.  There had been an office holiday party, a lot of wine, a little herb and what seemed to be some very strong interest in dating her from the good lady doctor, or at least she'd thought as much when the woman had pulled her up to the medical college roof at midnight, grabbed Cosima’s hand, and thrust it up her skirt. Cosima should have known better than to go with it, but she was inebriated herself and had harboured a crush on this woman for months.

 

What could she say?  She'd had a fixation on French-Canadian women since her internship in Montréal had led to dalliance with a local musician who had a mouth like French sailor on shore leave in the red light district whenever they fucked, whether it was backstage at an “atmospheric” club or on the futon laid on the floor of her tiny, studio flat.  That was then and didn't end well, but this time was even worse when someone saw them on the roof and gossiped, and Professor-Lifty-Skirt countered the rumours by claiming Cosima had gotten her drunk and sexually harassed her.  Cosima had no idea the department head was married, much less to the Dean of the Law School, until she was shown out the door of the lab before she could even grab her lab coat and served with legal papers.  It turned out they didn't have much of a case, but that didn't stop them from trying to blackmail, smear and get her deported.

 

But she had given up her apartment in Minnesota.  She had no place to go.  Plus, it just wasn't right or fair.  It was the principle of the thing.  That and if she didn't get her name cleared, she’d have a hard time finding a grad school or job in the field that would take her on either side of the U.S./Canada border.  Fortunately, her work permit was still valid.  For now.

 

—————

 

Which had led her to this.  She'd been unemployed for months, slogging from one humiliating, draining job interview to the next.  Some of them had been plain weird, like the interviewer who kept leering at her while asking if she liked horses, the one who kept staring at a point slightly behind and above her left shoulder, or the one who told her she was creepy because she had a twin.  She'd thought Sarah would have gotten a laugh out of that one, but instead she told Cosima she didn't know how to “sell herself.”  When her cousin Alison’s tone began to get increasingly annoyed when she asked her for one more loan, Cosima decided she would take the first job she could get.  So, here she was, training as a medical assistant at a local practice, being told she'd better pick up the MPM software quick and hem her maroon scrubs by tomorrow.  She tried to remember not to make bored, depressed faces and instead be obsequious as possible.   _ First paycheck Friday _ , she kept telling herself,  _ first paycheck Friday. _

 

Still, she made it to lunch without incident.  A chatty assistant named Krystal had asked her about where she'd worked before and, upon getting subtly deflected, began to “fill her in" on the idiosyncrasies of the scheduling system, the bathroom faucet, the patients and the doctors.

 

“Now, Dr. Leekie, he can be kind of gross, like, he wants to get with every girl under sixty here, but you can just play dumb and eventually he'll give up, ‘cause he thinks he's smarter than you,” the gum-cracking blonde told Cosima as she worked on her sandwich.  It seemed Krystal would go on even if Cosima didn't say anything, which was fine, as her sandwich was plain peanut butter.  She’d had a choice of ramen or jelly on her budget, and it was no contest, plus she didn't feel like talking, anyway.  

 

“Dr. Nealon is very professional, and he doesn't even wanna see you around unless he calls for you,” Krystal went on, as Cosima swished her sticky mouth out with water, “but nobody’s really mean, or anything.  Well, usually, that is, except…”

 

“You'd better tell her about Dr. Cormier,” came an interjection from Felix, the lanky gay man who claimed he was an artist just working there until he was “discovered.”  “She’s a bitch on wheels.”

 

“She’s not that bad,” Krystal interrupted, “She’s usually super nice.  It’s just she's just got, you know, a lot going on now.” They blonde assistant made an arcing gesture over her stomach that Cosima didn't quite get.  The woman was fat?  She had a digestive problem?

 

“She’s pregnant,” Felix filled in, with a roll of his eyes.  “She’s working all the time and never seems to be seeing anyone, so looks like she felt her clock ticking and decided to pop out a sprat before her eggs dried up,” he informed his new co-worker, looking dead annoyed with the whole thing as if it was a personal offence.  “Anyway, she's got the lady hormones going double time and I swear she's more touchy than any ob/gyn patients we have.”

 

“Felix is exaggerating,” Krystal tried to counter.  “I mean, it's natural to be moody when you're in that way, and she has a lot of, like, responsibilities, things on her mind-”

 

“Yeah, like figuring out how to be even colder or more brusque, or look at you like you're even more of an idiot,” Felix interrupted.  “Just stay away, if you can, new girl, unless you like fearing for your job or dealing with a real cu-"

 

“Feeee!” Krystal interrupted, and the office manager stuck her head in the door.

 

“Break’s over,” the manager said, “back to work.  Cassandra, you can start by tidying up the rooms between patients.”

 

“Um, Cosima,” Cosima mumbled in correction, but the woman's head had already withdrawn.

 

“Don't mind her.  She's only that way because she has the worst hemmorr-"

 

“Felix!” Krystal interrupted him, and he shrugged and left the room.

 

All that said, things went pretty smoothly for Cosima after lunch.  She went from room to room, gathering examination gowns, switching out the paper on the exam tables, picking up trash and making sure all the sharps were in the red containers.  It wasn’t hard, which was just as well, because she still felt completely out of her element and more than resentful at her situation.  She knew they'd be training her to do a lot more things she was overeducated and overqualified for over the coming week, so she might as well enjoy the relative quiet and get through the day quickly.

 

And she almost did.

 

In fact, it was very close to closing time when she made the blunder.  She swung open the door, pushing her little cart right through before she registered that there were people in the room. But there were.  One of them was a patient on the table, legs spread, feet in the stirrups, and naked from the waist down.  The other was a doctor who got kneed in the head when the patient screamed and tried to cover herself.  A doctor who also got hit in the chest by the lubed speculum as it shot out of the patient.  A doctor that turned and revealed to Cosima a face that was at once one of the most beautiful and most violently  _ pissed off _  the shocked, new assistant had ever seen in her life. 

 

“I'm, uh, oops, sorry—" Cosima began, stumbling backwards as the patient started to shout that she had been scared half to death and was  _ probably starting a panic attack what if she had a miscarriage _ .  The doctor rose smoothly, her perfect, creamy brow marred by a deep crease of a frown, her luminous, hazel-green eyes cold yet seething, her luscious mouth angling downward in a growing grimace.

 

“Get. Out.” The doctor said, stepping forward so quickly that Cosima banged her shoulder on the door frame.   _ “NOW.”   _ The doctor's arm flew out and grasped the door, hurling it shut as soon as Cosima cleared the doorsill.  It closed so fast it actually smacked the tip of her nose and stung like heck.  Cosima stood in confused, disbelieving despair as she heard the muffled voice of the doctor lower into a conciliatory tone while the patient still gasped and huffed.  There was one other thing she had seen about the doctor in the brief second she hadn't been fixated on her ethereal beauty or her expression full of wrath.  “DR. CORMIER,” her name tag on her white coat had said.

 

Cosima turned when she heard the cluck of a tongue behind her.  Felix was there, leaning on the door to ultrasound room.  His arms were crossed and his head slowly rotated back and forth, his look clearly spelling out her doom.

 

“ _ Shit _ ,” she hissed, but softly, so the doctor wouldn't hear her.

 

“Hmm,” he responded archly, with a lazy shrug.  “So long, then,  _ Cassandra _ .” 

 

Cosima watched as he ambled off back towards the front office.  Could things have gone any worse?

 

—————

 

It was fully dark out and almost everyone had left the office.  Cosima sat, huddled, on an exam stool in the corner near a filing cabinet, feeling like a child in a dunce cap.  She had thought they would make her leave, fire her immediately, especially when she'd seen the face of the manager lodged somewhere between panic and disgust.  But they didn't.  The manager told her to stay there because Dr. Cormier wanted to talk to her  _ personally _ .  Cosima shifted her position, feeling an ache creep up her back.  She doubted she'd be getting paid overtime.

 

“She wants to see you, now,” the manager said, walking into the office from the hallway.  She had her purse and coat, like she was getting ready to leave.  “Down the hall, last door on the right,” she instructed, and Cosima could swear she saw the woman give a tiny shake of her head in pity.

 

Many of the lights were off.  The hallway seemed long.  The door was just slightly open.  Cosima knocked.

 

“Come in,” came the terse answer, and Cosima cautiously did.  The Greek-goddess profile of the doctor was towards her, while long, nimble fingers tapped at a keyboard.  “Sit down,” she told Cosima, without even turning to look at her.

 

Cosima sat, alternating between fidgeting in anxious suspense and narrowing her eyes at the rude, disrespectful treatment.  She cleared her throat, but the doctor kept typing.  10 seconds more… 30… damn, Cosima was going to say something any minute now… 45… one minute…

 

The doctor turned abruptly toward her, tapping on some papers on the desk.

 

“Cosima Niehaus.  I read your file,” she said, without preamble, and the former biology student swallowed, hearing her voice uttered in yet another lilting, French-Canadian accent.  Dammit, and the doctor had a great voice, too, when she wasn't shouting.

 

Cosima nodded, unsure if she was supposed to say anything.

 

“You know, you came highly recommended,” Dr. Cormier continued, arching her eyebrows while looking coolly down her nose.  Cosima blinked, unsure if she'd heard correctly.

 

“That's right,” the doctor said, rising to sit on the arm of her chair.   _ All the better to look down on me, I guess,  _ Cosima thought.   _ Damn, she's got a nice shape _ —  _ “ _ A colleague of mine at the university, Dean Bowles, mentioned you,” the doctor informed her.  “So, when your rèsumé came in…”

 

“Dr. Bowles recommended me, for  _ this _ job?” Cosima’s expression was skeptical, her tone right on the border of incredulity.

 

“Well, we got your c.v., and it seemed very odd that someone at your level of study and work in the biology program would apply for this kind of position, so I asked.”  Cosima’s brain seemed to have slowed down.  _ She… asked about me? _

 

“Marion said she'd worked with you at times,” the blonde continued, “and advised you.  She told me a little bit about your… situation.”  Cosima was at a loss.  What was the Canadienne docteur implying?  “You do need a job, don't you?” the doctor inquired, her expression unreadable, if vaguely supercilious.

 

“Well… yeah…” Cosima finally uttered slowly, “but what… are you trying to say?”

 

“Cosima,” the Doctor said, as though she already knew the new employee, and rose, rounding the desk to lean on its edge facing the disgraced student.  “What you did today was extremely unprofessional.” Her voice was hardened, scolding.  “You scared and embarrassed a patient and interrupted an examination.  We were lucky that there were no injuries and Mrs. d’Orberg didn't leave the practice.”

 

“Okay, I know,” Cosima blurted, finally finding her voice, “but, like, it was my first day, and I swore the manager told me that room number—"

 

“Nevertheless, you are supposed to  _ knock,” _ the doctor parried, leaning forward to almost tower over the petite biologist.  “Do you know how unacceptable that sort of behaviour is?”

 

Cosima was starting to sweat.  This woman was even more gorgeous close up…  _ glowing _ , even, and she was pushing into Cosima’s space in a way that was… angry?  Condescending?  Stone-cold bitchy?  But/and, very, very  _ sexy _ …

 

“I'm  _ sorry,”  _ she finally yelled, her volume getting away from her. “Are you gonna  _ fire _ me or  _ what?” _

 

The bombshell physician looked at her coolly for several seconds, making her squirm.  She had half a mind to stomp out…

 

“I met you once, you know.  A while ago,” Cormier informed her.

 

“You— you  _ did?”   _ Cosima was dumbfounded.  Surely she'd remember  _ that. _

 

_ “ _ In a manner of speaking,” the doctor said, then continued, taking a few steps to pace slowly behind Cosima’s chair and back.  “You wouldn't remember me.”

 

Cosima looked at her in complete bafflement.  There was no way she’d forget  _ this _ woman.

 

“It was a few years ago,” the doctor said. “I was studying at the University of Minnesota, as an undergraduate on the fast-track to my doctorate.  I was doing well, moving towards my goals, but I was confused, and lonely…” She trailed off in reminiscence for a moment, then carried on.

 

“I reached a point where… I had done so much to be the perfect daughter, the perfect student, but I had no friends.  I was alienated,” she said, then perched back on the desk, hands folded on her thighs, knees inches from the dumbstruck woman before her.  “And finally, I knew I needed help.”  There was a moment of silence while the women's eyes met, one pair still incredulous, the other wide open, shining with such depth that their gazes locked together.

 

“I called the line for Queer Students’ Union, and I talked to someone for a while.  Someone who was kind, funny, and soothing to me.  I confessed that I thought I might be different from what my family wanted, and I didn't know what to do, and I might harm myself.”

 

Cosima’s mouth opened in a tiny O. 

 

“You…?”

 

Doctor Cormier nodded.

 

“I had seen you around on campus.  I knew you were in the leadership group there.  I never knew your last name, but you always looked so free, so radiant, so full of life.  You were like a ray of sunshine to me.”

 

The doctor reached out and placed one hand on Cosima’s knee.

 

“I knew it was you on the phone, because I recognised your voice from lingering near you in the quad and the dining hall.  You helped me feel better.  Slowly I pulled myself together, I came out to my family, I graduated.  I got through med school while you took a year off, and entered this practice. You saved me, made it possible.  But I never thanked you.”

 

Cosima watched as the doctor's face grew closer, one slim hand lightly reaching out to touch her face, the eyes filling her vision rapt and multi-hued.

 

“I’d like to thank you now,” the doctor husked, and touched her lips to Cosima’s with the softest, lingering kiss.

 

Cosima’s mind filled with buzzing, sparkles and light, her body leaning forward as if drawn by a string, some mysterious, chemical bond pulling the women together.

 

She kissed her back.

 

Before she knew what was happening, things sped up and blurred, overwhelming her with sensation, flashing at sudden, vivid moments as if in photographs.

 

Their mouths stuck together, and a desperate passion overtook them, their kisses turning exploratory, almost frantic.  Hands wound into hair and grasped waists.  There was a clatter as she pushed Doctor Cormier against the desk, and they both reached to sweep anything in their way off the surface.  The doctor spun Cosima around and pushed her back down onto it, swiftly climbing up to straddle her hips.

 

“Holy fuck,” Cosima moaned, between kisses, as the doctor's hands roamed up under her shirt, popping buttons as they went.

 

“I want to apologize,” the doctor breathed, as her teeth lightly scraped down the prone woman's neck, “for my behaviour earlier.  I’m at a time where I'm… very hormonal,” she gasped, as Cosima’s hands slid up the skin of her back, clutching at her bra strap.  “It makes me somewhat… moody.”

 

Cosima pulled back slightly to look at her, although they couldn't seem to help pressing their lips together and to each other's necks and faces between phrases.

 

“Oh, yeah… somebody told me, you're pregnant.  Um.  Should we talk about this?”

 

“ _ Non,  _ unless you really want to… I'm partway through my… ahh… first trimester, so it's no problem…  In fact, my hormones are also making me… ooh,” she groaned, as Cosima sucked on her neck, “...  _ incredibly horny _ …”

 

“Yeah?” Cosima managed, as the woman above her unceremoniously reached underneath her to unzip her skirt, “so this is… like, okay? It’s…”

 

Her employer’s lips covered hers again, and the physician reached to take the assistant’s hand, drawing it to her lithe waist.

 

“ _ Cosima _ … I've been wet for you since you walked into my office.” 

 

Cosima nearly yelped as the hot blonde pushed the hand she was grasping down into her very professional pants, escorting it with her own grip beneath her underthings, until the sometime-scientist’s fingers touched her hot arousal.

 

“Oh, my God. Doctor Cormier…” Cosima panted, as her expectant companion ground against her, yanking the cup of the assistant’s bra down to lave the exposed breast with her tongue.  “I don't even know your first name…”

 

“Delphine, it's Delphine,” the doctor gasped, then, as she slid Cosima’s fingers home into her sex, whispered, “enchantée…”

 

Cosima found herself calling out that name more than once that night.

 

—————

 

Seven months later, Cosima stumbled from the nursery carrying a fussy baby to her bed.  The Québécoise blonde barely opened her eyes as her fiancée laid the baby in her arms, across her chest, but she reached down to help him latch.

 

Cosima sat for a moment in the semi-dark, her new family illuminated by the glow of her laptop on the desk.  How the heck did she get here?  Who exactly had hired the U-Haul?  She was never going to finish her dissertation this way.  Delphine turned her head, pressing her forehead, semi-obscured by mussed, golden curls, and nose to Cosima’s arm, then giving it a soft kiss.  In the quiet room, the baby’s suckling seemed almost obscenely loud.

 

Well, at least she didn't have to worry about unemployment.

  
  
  



	18. Top 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Delphemeral who's a newer addition to the group and who's birthday was a while back but the birthday fairy was on vacation. Hopefully she forgives us

When answering the ask that had been dropped in her inbox, this was not where she thought things would head. 

“Fuck!” Delphine groaned as she tangled her fingers in brunette dreads, the tongue moving against her in vigor, fingers pumping in and out, pulling her closer to oblivion. 

It had started with a list… just a simple list of the ten cheesiest stories. It was an innocent recommendation, she hadn’t expected one of the authors to contact her. She didn’t expect one of the authors to be local. 

As a third finger slid into her, she gasped, her hips grinding against the face burried in her sex. “Plus vite!” She gripped the edge of the desk. 

“What?” The brunette lifted her head in confusion, glistening lips spread in a mischievous smile. 

“Cosima!” A whimper fell from the blonde’s chest as she pulled the woman back to her. “Faster!” Once the brunette complied, it wasn’t long before her abdomen tensed, the pressure that had been escalating broke free and she came undone with a loud groan, her muscles trembling with each tide of pleasure that raked through her. As the waves began to subside, she laughed, running her hand through her own hair. “Fuck.” 

Cosima smirked, wiping her mouth on the back of her hand as the blonde sat up, accidentally knocking over a stack of folders. “Hope that wasn’t too… cheesy.” 

Delphine smoothed down her skirt before meeting the woman’s lips in a kiss. She tasted herself in the kiss as she wrapped her legs around the woman, preventing her escape. “THAT… was not cheesy… your story on the other hand…” She chuckled, reaching down to undo the brunette’s belt. “Let me give you something worth writing about.” She commented before pulling her in for another kiss, her hand sliding into molten heat. 

No… this definitely wasn’t where she expected things to go when she’d agreed to meet for coffee to discuss what exactly she found cheesy about the author’s writing.

_ Delphine looked up from her cup of coffee as a shadow cast over her, looking over the shorter woman who fixed her dark-framed glasses. “Cos324B21?”  _

_ “So you’re the one that thinks my writing is cheesy?” The woman had a small smile, sitting down at the table across from the blonde. She held out a hand, bracelets clinking loudly. “I’m Cosima.”  _

_ She hadn’t expected the author to be… Delphine shook her head, accepting the hand. “Delphine. Enchantee.”  _

_ The brunette gave her a crooked smile. “Enchantee.”  _


	19. Varrying Music Tastes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Birthday to Arabybizarre

“No no no.” The brunette shook her head vigorously. “Their last album was pompous and overrated to say the least.” She removed the orange slice from the rim of her glass that was preventing her from finishing the rest of her wheat beer. 

“Overrated??? This from someone who likes the White Stripes?” Delphine scoffed before taking the last sip from her martini glass, feeling the burn of Vodka sliding down her throat. 

Cosima slipped off the bar stool with a mock look of disgust. The blonde was hot, yes, a genius, yes, but her taste in music was god awful. “I have to hit the head. You should probably take the time to revisit what you consider a good album.” 

The bar was one of the smaller ones but it had excellent craft beer on tap and the bathroom was always clean. Cosima sniffled as she washed her hands, feeling the buzzing in her head that had started one beer ago. It was the same buzz that made her skin tingle when the blonde had put a hand on her knee while discussing one of those god awful songs. Second date… that was acceptable for sex right? Her sister had once told her about some three date rule or was it four? Problem was  Delphine was  _ so _ fine.

The bathroom door opened, revealing her drinking partner. “Think twice about that…” Her question was cut off by a searing kiss that reached down into her, catching her off guard with its intensity. It took her a brief moment before she was returning the kiss, pressing the woman against the door she’d just entered through. When the woman broke off the kiss suddenly, she was about to apologize when the blonde stripped off her top, draping it over the sink. _ Yeah, ok. _ She smirked, stripping off her own top before latching onto a pale breast, her tongue flicking over a nipple that instantly tightened. 

Hitching up the blonde’s skirt, she pressed against the lace covered mound, feeling the slick arousal that soaked through the material and forcing a groan of anticipation to slip from her lips. “Tell me what you want.” She mumbled against the soft flesh.  

“Kiss me.” Delphine growled. When lips made their way up to her mouth, she shook her head, a smirk crossing her features. “Not there.” 

Feeling the pressure on her shoulders, Cosima blinked in realization, dropping to her knees. She didn’t bother removing the woman’s underwear, simply pushing it to the side before running her tongue along the length of heated flesh. 

This was definitely not a second date activity, but as she circled the hardened nub, drawing a whimper from her date, she could care less about dating protocols. 


	20. Presidential Election Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For tatarrific.

  


“Seriously?” Delphine asks incredulously.

  


“Yes, seriously,” her boss answers with a pointed look.

  


“That woman has been a thorn in our side since the beginning. Do you have any idea how much damage she's done to our campaign, particularly among the youth vote?” Delphine is angrier than he's ever seen her, but he's not backing down.

  


“And that's exactly why she's coming on to shift the youth vote,” he tells her.

  


“Robby--” she begins, but he interrupts her.

  


“Listen, this is how it's going to be. She's brilliant, connected, and we need her help. So, you need to put aside whatever past issues or personal vendettas you have against her and work together. This is professional, not personal,” he adds, wounding her with the implication that she's anything but professional. “This is the course I've chosen to take, and Hillary backs me.”

  


“Hillary agrees?” Delphine responds, jaw dropping.

  


“Yes. So work it out for yourself today, because she's coming on board tomorrow.”

  


Cosima Niehaus, joining the Clinton presidential campaign after banging the drum for Sanders all this time -- even past when Hillary had locked in the electoral numbers. _Merde._

  


It hadn't started there, oh no. They had been high school students in 2000. They went to different schools, but had met in a summer science camp and hit it off. Cosima was incredibly smart, funny, and deeply thoughtful about and committed to feminism and social justice. She also repeatedly kicked Delphine’s ass in debate competitions for three years. There was something about the girl's turns of phrase, joking, condescending tactics and frank gaze that had kept Delphine stumbling back in her English, despite her usual, hard-earned fluency and new papers of citizenship (thanks, Papa, for falling in love with an American.) Somehow, seeing how Cosima’s favourite candidate -- _Nader --_ had contributed to the Bush campaign stealing the election made her livid. Delphine trained hard, and finally knew she was ready for her nemesis in her senior year, only for Cosima to be absent from the debate team competition because she had left the country to volunteer for a prestigious human aid organization overseas.

  


Then there was 2008. Both women had made it to impressive positions in the campaigns despite their youth. Only this time, Delphine was a firm supporter of her current boss, Hillary Clinton, while Cosima worked to solidify the nomination for Barack Obama. Everybody knew how that turned out.

  


And now, when Delphine had finally seen success with her candidate, she was going to be forced to work with this woman who had threatened their nomination, fighting against the most experienced and capable candidate in the race, the potential first woman president, no less, for a cranky old man with pie-in-the-sky rhetoric and an agenda so far left there was no chance he could've won against the Republicans.

  


_Merde,_ again.

  


So now she sits in meetings with this woman, and she hears her questioning their tactics and platform in that ridiculous, laid-back, Californian drawl she has, sees her winning over her associates, being looked to as a possible saviour in winning over the under-30s, and Delphine’s knuckles turn white on her tablet.

  


She grinds her teeth as her reasoning regarding which candidates for vice president would be most effective is plowed under in favour of Cosima’s arguments. It's not that she doesn't like and respect Senator Warren. It's just that she thinks having another woman, a firebrand in her own right that could be compared to the former Secretary of State, someone who could possibly be much more effective using her power and influence in the senate, is a dangerous choice that might alienate independents. But Cosima wins. 

  


It's only because Cosima decides to bide her time on the issue that Delphine doesn't have to struggle against legalizing pot becoming a plank in the platform. More than once Delphine had to chant “President Trump, President Trump" to herself in her head to keep from running screaming out of the office.

  


Ms. Niehaus, for her part, tries to engage with her now and then, seemingly unfazed after shouting over her at the table, and asking her if she wants to join the gang for drinks and pizza. Delphine remains distant.

  


And now, finally, this is it. They're both still working their phones, whipping up the turnout via their teams in different states, everyone in the office keeping an eye on the screens that show the major media coverage and projections. It's close, too close, and Delphine is sweating, but Cosima is handing around a box of ridiculous party hats and noisemakers, saying “we got this, I guarantee it,” and it's making her co-workers laugh and stay positive, and Delphine is mad at having to be grateful and itching to snag those stupid dreadlocks and wring that cocky bitch by the neck.

  


The numbers start changing. As greater percentages of the votes come in, Hillary’s counts start climbing. One state is called for her, another, and then one they knew they'd never get goes to The Idiot, but it's closer than they imagined, it's actually a contest. The evening wears on and things are looking better. It's still not certain, but there's a good chance they'll win. Delphine looks around and sees Cosima laughing, joking around, not bothering to keep calling in to the local teams. And then she sees something else.

  


She catches Cosima as she walks down a hallway and shoves her into the ladies’ room before that careless, radical, _brat_ of an _enfant_ can even get out a “hey" or a stupid “‘sup, dude?”

  


She doesn't stop, barely even regains control, until she's slammed the smaller woman by the shoulders into an eraser-pink stall, up against the wall, and shoved home the latch.

  


“What the--" Cosima begins, but Delphine interrupts her with a shake to her shoulders and an angry, low hiss.

  


“Is. That. A. Fucking. _Joint._ Behind your ear?” she growls, incredulous and beyond pissed. To her rage and horror, Cosima’s face goes slack and unconcerned, and the corners of her lips twitch as if she’s getting ready to _smile._

  


“Yeah, I thought I’d take a celebratory hit on the back patio. Want to join?”

  


Delphine lets out a strangled howl and shoves this infuriating teacher’s pet, this smug, careless _salope_ into the wall again, her face a mask of rage and so close to the other woman's she nearly bumps noses.

  


“We are in the fight of our _lives,_ the results affecting the entire _world,_ and you leave your post to do something illegal? Are you _trying_ to get caught and sabotage us, drag us through the mud--”

  


“Delphine,” her rival interrupts, and her voice is calm as if soothing an upset child, “ _relax._ We're winning this, it's going to happen. And the patio is completely enclosed, no one can see in. I mean, I know where all the media and cameras are and how to avoid them, obvs.”

  


“‘ _Obvs?’"_ Delphine chokes, and there's a ringing in her head and she swears she's about to lose it, dissociate.

  


“Hey, I don't know what you've got against me. I think we've made a pretty great team and I've always looked to you as the best of the best. But whatever it is, don't let it give you an aneurysm. In a few minutes, this'll all be over and maybe we can--

  


There's a huge cheer, loud music and shouting from outside the restroom door, and Delphine’s eyes widen into perfect, golden-green Os of surprise. Cosima’s face splits into a shit-eating grin.

  


“That's it! They've called it, Delphine. We've won!”

  


Delphine can barely form a coherent thought as she fumbles for her phone. She wakes it up and it opens right up to the numbers feed she's been sweating over all night.

  


_PROJECTED RESULTS: HILLARY CLINTON ELECTED THE FIRST WOMAN PRESIDENT,_ the headline reads, and the shocked Franco-American looks up at her stall-mate in wonder.

  


“We did it,” Cosima smiles, and lays her hands on Delphine’s shoulders, causing an inexplicable spark to run down the taller woman's arms. _“You_ did it, Delphine. This could've never happened without you.”

  


There's a moment where the world goes silent in Delphine’s ears, her stomach flips and the jolt in her system is beyond belief, beyond words.

  


And then she’s kissing Cosima, breath fast and hard, body pressing against the smaller woman's, arms pushing until her former rival is drawn up, held and pinned against the wall, kissing back and wrapping both legs around her. They're both biting, sucking on each other's mouths, tongues sliding slick and tangled, letting out muffled moans and high-pitched whimpers, hands clutching, and _fuck_ , this is it, this is what's been behind it all. The misplaced hurt and jealousy, the anger at being on the other side, each knowing that the other woman was the only one good enough to challenge her at her level… that wasn't competition, it was _courtship._

  


They're fighting even now, pushing to see who can get their hands in each other's bras, their underwear, first. Delphine gets her lips wrapped around Cosima’s nipple fast, but Cosima’s fingers slip under her skirt and waistband first, and soon the sounds of their kisses and gasps is joined by the wet sounds of their fingers sliding against slick folds, the thunk and wobble of the thin metal stall walls as they are simultaneously pumping into each other.

  


Delphine is losing her head, or has lost it.

  


“ _Putain de merde,_ I can't concentrate,” she rasps, torn between the desire to pound this woman into senseless oblivion and the jolts and surges of pleasure between her own legs as Cosima’s fingers push deeper into her, the heel of her hand pressing against her sensitive nub.

  


“Me either,” Cosima pants. “Let me--”

  


“ _Non,”_ Delphine growls over her. “Let _me._ Let me make you come first.”

  


Cosima pulls back her head and looks at her, and for a moment Delphine thinks it's going to happen again, her bête noir is going to refute her, push against her, try to take charge and subsume her will.

  


But the woman with her glasses askew and her, yes, _sexy_ dreads just smiles until her tongue pokes between her teeth and withdraws her fingers, moving them to clench Delphine’s ass.

  


“Ma’am, yes ma’am, she purrs, and Delphine finally feels gloriously free, and enormously turned on.

  


She continues at her previous pace, using kisses and nips to claim Cosima’s mouth, jaw and neck. She feels the tell-tale tightening throb around her fingers and curves them just so. 

  


Cosima is chanting “yes, yes, _yes,”_ until her voice rises into a wail, and she’s coming around Delphine’s skilled digits.

  


They take a moment to breathe, to come down, exchanging increasingly softer kisses. Dephine slides her hand from under the other woman's skirt.

  


“Damn, Ms. Cormier, it's about time,” Cosima teases. “When we get back to the hotel, I'm going to get you _so baked,”_ she promises,”and then I'm going to eat you until--”

  


It all happens at once. There's the muffled sound of voices close to the bathroom door, Cosima says “shit" as they hear the door swing open; “I think--” a familiar voice says, and then Cosima’s thighs slip and Delphine tries to hold her, but it only ends up canting her sideways, and her thigh bumps the lock and suddenly they're both on the floor, busted through the stall door and busted by--

  


There's a brief silence.

  


“Madame President,” Cosima says, less sheepishly than she ought to.

  


“M-madame Vice President,” Delphine stutters, pulling herself to her feet, then grunting as Cosima uses her as a brace to pull herself upright, too.

  


At least their clothes are back all in place. Delphine hopes.

  


“Well,” the Vice President finally says, struggling not to chortle. “Ladies, don't let us stop you. We'll move on.”

  


The leaders of the free world turn back around, the veep mumbling something about the secret service falling down on the job, and then finally laughing when she realizes she said “falling down on the job.” 

  


“ _Shit,”_ and _“merde,”_ the disheveled new lovers mumble at the same time as the door is closing.

  


But right before it does, the Pesident-elect pokes her head back in

  


and they swear she _winks._

  


  


  


  


  



	21. Job Interview Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For trylonandperisphere -- happy (VERY BELATED) b-day!

The thing with anxiety, Cosima thought as she surreptitiously tried to wipe her clammy palms against her dress, is that, when it struck, it made things she could do in her sleep, things she _excelled_ at, incredibly difficult.

Take this instance, for example - all she had to do is talk to another person about something she was passionate about, a veritable no-brainer. She's chatted people up on a daily basis, making the connection seem effortless regardless of the person - mothers with cranky toddlers, hipster dudebros, teens congregating at the neighborhood basketball court. She was in turn friendly, genuinely curious and empathetic, a combination that generally cracked even the most stubborn social nut.

And yet, there were two things, job interviews and talking to beautiful women, that would make Cosima tongue-tied and stuttery, even if given a chance to expound on one of her passions. 

She expelled a shallow, shaky breath, and looked around the shiny, modern reception area of the publishing company. Chairs were angular and uncomfortable, the coffee table seemed hewed out of a single piece of sharp glass, and the couch she currently perched on smelled of fresh hide. Even if her semi-vegetarian leanings weren’t offended by the astounding amount of animal that went into the making of the sofa, she felt mocked by the shiny, moist imprints her palms left against it every time she touched its surface. 

She again reached for one of the magazines stacked on the table in front of her -- The Nature Conservancy, yet another in the line of previously well-respected journals saved from almost certain bankruptcy by becoming a pet interest - and a cash purchase - of a hedge-fund billionaire with philanthropic aspirations. Back when she used to have a 9-5 office job -- at some point after her M.A. in Conservation Biology landed her a cushy job in the Corporate Social Responsibility department at Procter & Gamble, but before her nervous breakdown got her to quit and instead turn to serving overpriced coffee and beer to hipsters, she dreamed of doing real conservancy work. She dreamed of working for this very magazine, with its hokey covers, earnest stories of nature’s wonders, and real, palpable work of conserving the nature.

And here she was, four years into her self-imposed sabbatical from the stresses and rigors of her profession, interviewing for an entry-level position with the Nature Conservancy. She had felt ready to rejoin that world, had missed the sense of purpose and the intellectual reward of the work, and yet -- the interviewing process, as she discovered, did not miraculously become any easier. 

The fact she landed an interview at all was a minor miracle given the nearly half a decade long gaping hole in her resume. Instead of making her feel relieved, this only served to ratchet up the stakes and, by extension, her anxiety. She had shown up 15 minutes early and managed to use the extra time to work herself up into a state of acute nervousness. Vomiting was not out of the question.

“Ms. Niehaus?” The young receptionist, an overly combed white boy with an Abercrombie and Fitch outfit, looked down on her kindly. “We are ready for you - if you'll follow me?”

Cosima stood up, hands smoothing down her dress, straightening the lapels of her blazer, and nodded, following him. The short walk ended in front of a glass-walled conference room, and then she was seated at the end of a long, gleaming table, a glass of water in front of her. 

“Ms. Cormier, the Associate Director of Marketing, will be with you shortly.”

The receptionist left with a smile, and Cosima primly placed her portfolio in front of her, opening it to a blank pad of paper. She took a deep breath, held it for a beat, then slowly exhaled. Her eyes flitted around the room, noting the view of the city, the bustle of the office beyond the walls of the conference room. She inhaled again, willing her shoulders to relax, the knot in the pit of her stomach to unfurl.

The conference door opened with a soft clang, and she looked up, startled, then felt her jaw unhinge.

“D-delphine?”

And, indeed, there she was, a blonde vision vividly familiar from her bartending job - a semi-regular patron at her bar, and the woman single-handedly capable of turning Cosima, a professional flirt, into a mutely efficient drink-pourer. Cosima stood up, heart pounding. If there was one thing she was worse at than interviewing, it was talking to women she had a crush on. And Delphine, the smolderingly beautiful French woman with a penchant for leaning across the bar and ordering her drinks with a flirty wink, had Cosima crushing. Hard.

“Cosima.” Delphine smiled, leaning slightly against the conference room door, and despite her shock, a part, a rather large part, of Cosima’s brain noted the sleek fit of the blonde’s business suit. “So it _is_ you -- when I saw the name on the CV I thought, even in New York, how many different Cosimas can there be?”

“I--” Cosima faltered, arms half raised in surprise, “I-- I had no idea that it-- I thought you were--,” _a French movie star, or a sexy doctor - maybe a spy_. She pressed her lips together, at a loss. “I am.. surprised.”

This elicited a short, crystalline laugh, and Delphine strode into the room, holding her hand out. “Well, let’s do this properly, then. Delphine Cormier. Enchantee.”

Cosima accepted her hand without thought, noting the warm, firm grip and the smile wrinkles in the corners of Delphine’s eyes. She had noted those before, whenever the blonde would accept her drink with a smile, had made a mental note that they made Delphine look somehow more beautiful.

“I’m Cosima. Eum, Niehaus, duh. Cosima Niehaus.” She fluttered her newly freed hand awkwardly. “Sorry about that, I get clammy hands when I’m nervous.”

Delphine smiled, then bit her lower lip, another thing Cosima had noticed during her surreptitious observations at the bar, canting her head a bit. “It’s okay, I, um,” she leaned in conspiratorially, “I do, too, and was wondering if you’d notice.”

Cosima blinked, nonplussed, but before she could react to this admission Delphine gestured toward the chairs. “Why don’t we sit down?”

“Ah, yes, of course, I’m sorry.” She sat down, immediately distracted by the flex of the blonde’s calves under the glass top of the conference table. _Sweet Jesus help me_. She rearranged her portfolio, mercifully blocking the view. “I, uh, have an extra copy of my resume, and I just wanted again to thank you - er, your company, for giving me an opportunity to interview for the position of a marketing associate. I know I'm not very marketable these days given the lack of recent professional experience, so i am, ”she paused, winding down awkwardly, “grateful.”

Delphine placed the copy of her resume in front of her, glancing at it briefly, then leaned forward on her hands.

“I had a chance to look at your CV and was impressed by your educational background and previous work experience.” Cosima relaxed slightly, taking in the positive words. “You are certainly a very attractive, um, candidate for this position, given the whole,” she gestured toward the resume in front of her, “package.”

There was something about Delphine's body language, despite the positive tone, that revealed a certain hesitation, even nervousness; whitened knuckles of her steepled fingers, the lack of eye contact. During the last six months or so that Delphine had been patronizing the bar (and Cosima had been silently observing her) she had never seen the blonde act like that.

Cosima pursed her lips, fighting against the sinking feeling in her stomach. Not getting this job was one thing, seeing how it was a long shot anyway, but having to be rejected by the woman she'd been working up a nerve to ask out for half a year… It was gearing up to be the most humiliating experience of her life.

“Why do I think I hear a 'but’ in there?” Only brevity could salvage a potential disaster in the brewing, so why not cut to the chase.

Delphine looked up in surprise, finally making eye contact, before quickly dropping her eyes back to her hands. Cosima could actually see a slight sheen of perspiration breaking out on the blonde’s forehead.

“No, no-- no but, it's just-- I wanted--,” Delphine stammered, then exhaled, looking at Cosima's almost beseechingly. “I think what I need to say is that there are two things I should say first.”

Cosima sat mutely, at a loss. When the blonde just continued looking at her, she quirked her eyebrow. “Yes?”

“Right. First, I believe there is a mid-level position in our development department that would fit your level of experience and your,” she smiled with real warmth at Cosima, “engaging personality much better than the entry-level position with Marketing.”

Cosima swallowed, feeling the lead ball of disappointment in her belly, but kept her tone even. “So, I’m ‘overqualified,’ is that it?”

“No!” Delphine looked alarmed, empathetically shaking her head. “I mean, yes, you are overqualified, but-- “ Her head hung down for a moment, cascades of blonde hair obscuring her face. “ _Putain de merde, Scott va me tuer, c’est sûr.”_

“Excuse me?”

Delphine looked up, waving her off. Her mouth was set in a straight line and, Cosima thought, if at all possible she looked more pained than Cosima felt.

“Cosima.” Delphine’s mouth opened, then closed. Then it opened again, only for Delphine to clamp her teeth, rather painfully, against her lower lip. She tried again. “Oh-kay. My colleague, Scott Smith, has an opening for a mid-level development associate, and I believe that position would both be more challenging and provide you with a better growth opportunity.”

“But--,” Delphine held up a hand, cutting her off, and Cosima shut her mouth. What was even happening here?

“Beyond that, I must say that I have a.. personal interest in you not seeking a position within my department.”

“Oh.” Cosima sank into her chair, feeling the bloom of hurt and embarrassment. Was she called in here only to be humiliated by a woman she was attracted to? Did Delphine not want a lowly bartender on her team? “Why?”

Delphine hung her head again, hands raking through her hair. “Oh my god, this was a terrible idea.” When she looked up again, she seemed to teeter for a moment on the edge of speechlessness, but then she opened up in a torrent of words, “I am so sorry, Cosima. I saw your CV in my inbox, and I thought, this must be a joke, and it can’t actually be you, but then it _was_ you, and you were qualified for the position -- well, overqualified -- and I know you would be such an asset to the organization - you are smart and funny, and excel at communication, not to mention that you have the right kind of background, but…”

Cosima shook her head in bewilderment, trying to follow the current of words. “But?”

“But,” Delphine’s eyes fluttered toward her clasped hands, but then she resolutely trained them on Cosima’s face. “After six months of trying to work up the courage to ask you out on a date, I could not face the possibility of becoming your boss.” 

Cosima felt her jaw fall open unglamorously for a second time in less than 30 minutes. “Excuse me?”

Delphine’s chuckle came out a bit strangled. “Your application for this job tipped my hand in a rather spectacular fashion. My initial plan was just to order tequila shots from you until either you started talking to me, or I got drunk enough to pull you over the bar and kiss you, but--” she spread out her arms helplessly, “here we are.”

“You,” Cosima narrowed her eyes in an effort to understand, making a circling motion with her finger between the two of them, “called me into this interview.. to ask me out?”

Delphine answered with a vigorous nod, then canted her head in thought. “Well, really to give you an opportunity to interview for a better position. I think you’d do great work for the organization, and you and Scott would get along really well. His email should be in your inbox already.”

“I--,” Cosima slumped back in her chair, vaguely registering various symptoms of shock; confusion, clammyness, rapid heartbeat, anxiety. There was an out of body kind of feeling to it all - she knew she should be responding in some way, but her brain seemed unable to process the information before her, let alone react to it. “I-- I don’t understand.”

Delphine reached out a tentative hand and laid it down briefly over Cosima’s forearm, her warmth permeating even through the layers of Cosima’s blazer. “I am sorry, I-- I don’t know why I thought meeting you like this with no forewarning and just.. _blah!_ ,” she mimicked expelling a spew of words out of her mouth, “would be a good idea. Scott tried to talk me out of it.” She smiled crookedly, warm hazel eyes trained on Cosima. “I hope that, maybe, we can laugh about my idiotic approach over drinks sometime soon?”

Cosima pursed her lips, unwilling to give anything to the hidden camera crew that must have been taping her reaction this whole time. What other explanation could there be?

Delphine nodded her head dejectedly in response, standing up. “ _Bon._ Cosima, I hope I didn’t completely ruin my chance of getting to know you better. If you are interested in the development position, please give Scott a call.” She placed a business card on the glass tabletop and slowly slid it toward Cosima. “In case you are interested in having a drink together, my number is here. Either way, this should not influence your decision on the job -- that position would have no interactions with my department.”

Cosima reached out for the card, sliding it over closer with the tip of her finger. She quirked up an eyebrow at Delphine who stood up straighter in response, then focused back on the card. “So…,” she paused, then looked at the blonde thoughtfully, “six months?”

“Hah,” Delphine chuckled with relief, then nodded, smiling sheepishly. “One could say I resorted to extreme measures.”

“I see,” Cosima nodded gravely, standing up as well. She gave Delphine a probing look, then stepped up, extending her hand. “It was good to meet you, and thank you for your time. I’ll be in touch.”

She could see Delphine’s eyes widen with surprise, but then she grasped Cosima’s hand warmly, her grip firm. “The pleasure was all mine. I look forward to it.”

Cosima canted her head in acknowledgement, then walked out with a saunter to her step. It was only when she was out of view, the conference door clanging closed after her, did Delphine see that she left her business card on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this smut fairy is a bit of a tease, it would appear. Fret not, little ones, we shall continue this tale anon. I promise that it will come to a banging conclusion.


	22. Job Interview Smut -- Part II (THE SMUT!)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They bang.

Delphine frantically tried to locate the lock, but her current position didn’t afford her much room to maneuver. As it was, all she was able to achieve, back arching up against the office door, right arm bent behind her, fingers ineffectually scrabbling against the door handle, was to expose more of her skin to Cosima’s insistent mouth. She hissed with startled pleasure when she felt teeth sink into the juncture of her neck, head involuntarily thudding against the door. _Fuck, they were going to get caught._

“I’m sorry,” Cosima didn’t sound repentant at all, though it would have been hard to discern a note of true contrition given that she was speaking through a mouthfull of Delphine’s cleavage. “Did that hurt?”

“ _Non,_ ” Delphine gave up on the door, wrapping her arm around Cosima instead. She needed to feel those lips again. “ _Vien ici, vien._ ”

Cosima met her half-way willingly, stretching up, face eagerly turned up for a kiss. Delphine moaned, getting lost in the sensation, feeling the warmth spread through her chest, warming her stomach, until it bloomed into an insistent tingle between her legs.

“ _Dieu, je ne peux pas--,_ ” she broke off, cradling Cosima's flushed, beautiful face in her hands. “You are going to kill me.”

“Mmmm, yes.” Cosima grinned up at her blissfully, eyes half-lidded. “A thousand beautiful little deaths. Come.”

Delphine let herself be tugged toward her desk, a sturdy stretch of utilitarian office furniture, knees wobbly. She pulled short suddenly, remembering.

“Wait!” Two long strides and she was back at the door, pressing the lock in with a satisfying click. “I do not wish to have to hide you under my desk again.”

“Good point,” Cosima grinned, swiveling the office chair for Delphine to sit. “Now bring that ass here.”

Delphine swallowed, feeling the jolt between her thighs in response to Cosima's sultry voice, but managed to walk over with a teasing gait. She noted the lustful once over Cosima gave her before she was directed toward the chair with a jut of Cosima’s chin. She turned around, sparing a glance in her lover's direction before she lowered herself down in the seat. At the last moment she remembered to hike her skirt up, pulling it all the way around her waist. It was only ten AM and she could ill afford to have the garment wet and stained with various juices so early in the day.

“That’s.. suave, Ms. Cormier,” Cosima chortled, slotting herself neatly between Delphine’s legs, resting her hands on the armrests, and leaning down for a kiss.

“Mmm, we are about to have a quick office sex again, so functional wins over suave.”

Cosima straightened up, ignoring Delphine’s mewled protest, and gave her an amused look. “Did you just say ‘a quick office sex’”?

“Cosi-mah,” Delphine grabbed at her impatiently, trying to pull her back down, “I have a meeting in 30 -- this is not the time to be pedantic. Come!”

“You know I like it when you’re bossy,” Cosima kneeled down, rolling the chair back until it was secured against the desk. Her dreads fell loosely about her shoulders, her brightly patterned summer dress contrasting with her tanned skin, and when she pushed her glasses to the top of her head Delphine could see the beginnings of a myopic squint. She was beautiful.

Delphine tangled her finger around a dreaded lock of hair and tugged slightly, urging Cosima upwards. The smaller woman obliged, stretching across Delphine’s torso until their lips met again, the kiss slow and languorous. She ran her hands up Cosima’s back, feeling the movement of lithe muscles under her dress, pulling the smaller woman in closer.

She could feel Cosima surging into her with renewed urgency, hips grinding against her own. She leaned fully back into her chair and propped her feet against the wall at hip level in a familiar stance, Cosima caught between her thighs.

The kiss deepened, and Cosima's hungry, quiet moan filled her mouth, but her lover didn't react otherwise. Delphine cupped Cosima's face, caressing it with the pads of her thumbs, then surreptitiously placed one of her hands on top of Cosima's head and pressed down lightly.

Cosima squirmed away, incredulous. “Seriously??”

Delphine smiled sheepishly but made a point of glancing at her watch. “ _Chérie,_ the meeting's in 27 minutes. Which means we only have.. 17 minutes, if I factor in time for the bathroom and travel, so…,” she glanced toward the junction of her bare legs and raised an inquiring eyebrow.

Cosima pursed her lips, dutifully taking in the expanse of exposed skin. “I better get to work, then.”

“I agree-- ahh,” Cosima had already bent her head down, sliding her panties aside, and Delphine threw her head back when the warm mouth descended on her.

There was no prelude, no gentle nips or playful teasing, just the full, strong feel of Cosima’s tongue against her. Delphine brought a hand up to her mouth, biting into the heel of her palm. They needed to be quick, but Delphine felt, with a brief twinge of panicked disappointment, the coiling of an orgasm after only three broad strokes of Cosima’s tongue.

She pressed her feet against the wall more firmly, trying to push herself away from the insistent mouth, but her chair only creaked against the desk, keeping her in place. She could feel the buildup pull her in, one sweep of the tongue, from root to tip, another, her heart booming in her ears, and an--

Cosima’s mouth disappeared, cool air hitting her exposed flesh, and Delphine arched up with a groan. She could feel the _absence_ of Cosima’s tongue in a physical way, her clit pulsing against the chill of the office. Her head lolled to the side, Delphine willing her eyes to open, seek out her tormentor. There was a whisper of movement, and then she was filled, fingers hilting inside of her, curling, one stroke, another, then another.

Delphine gripped the hand rests, anchoring herself against Cosima’s movements. Her hips rose in counterpoint to Cosima’s fingers, slamming down as her lover entered her, taking her in hungrily. She felt feverish, out of control, the familiar tightening in her cunt making her groan with pleasure. 

“Fuck, you’re so hot, I’m going to come just watching you,” Cosima husked out, breath hot against her thigh, and Delphine felt herself tightening around her fingers. She ground down on Cosima’s hand, needing more contact, more force, more---

“Cosima--,” she didn’t know what she was going to plead for, or how, she only knew that she needed something, needed something more.

“I know, baby, I know.” Cosima murmured lovingly, breath hot against Delphine’s thigh. She strained up, giving herself to Cosima, opening up with abandon, in need of absolution. When Cosima’s mouth descended on her again, tongue hot against her chilled clit, Delphine exclaimed, arching up, beyond concern. 

She worked her hips furiously against Cosima’s fingers, each downstroke met by the upsweep of Cosima’s tongue. Delphine was unravelling, only dimly aware of the rhythmic creaking of her office chair, the increasing volume of her panting exhales. 

“ _N'arrête pas, n'arrête pas, n'arrête pas_ ,” she grew rigid, muscles suddenly drawn taught with the strength of her release. It held a moment, the sweetest implosion, then broke her open in a series of weakening tremors. She slumped back, spent, feet landing listlessly on the floor. She felt both exhausted and rejuvenated, a soft warmth suffusing her entire body.

She could hear Cosima chuckle, but could not bring herself to open her eyes yet. She felt the fingers withdrawing, heard the sound of tissues bieng pulled out of the box on her desk, the last of her aftershocks slowly dying out.

When she finally opened her eyes she found Cosima still on her knees, glasses back on her face, her lips stripped of gloss and slightly bruised, smiling at her. “If your computer clock is correct, that only took five minutes. You practically have time for a nap before your meeting.”

Delphine huffed out a short, blissed-out chuckle. “My god, what have you done to me. I don’t know if I’ll be able to stand.”

“Mmmm, I’d say I’m sorry,” Cosima leaned over, laying a soft kiss on Delphine’s lips, the scent of her own sex lingering on brunette’s mouth, “but we’d both know it’d be a lie.”

“You are incorrigible. Can you--” Delphine waved her arm vaguely in the direction of the tissue box, then gingerly wiped herself with the tissues Cosima passed to her. She was afraid to inspect her skirt too closely. “We really can’t keep doing this, Cosima. It’s too risky.”

“I agree,” Cosima stood up, stretching out, and Delphine lingered on the play of muscles in her arms. “My six-month probation period is coming to a close, and I feel that getting caught shtupping the Head of Marketing could get me in trouble with HR.”

Delphine snapped her eyes to Cosima’s, chagrined. “ _Chérie_ , I had forgotten! Has it been six months already?”

Cosima smiled shyly, reaching out to tuck in a stray lock of Delphine’s hair. “Yes. Well, tomorrow, to be exact. Though -- spoiler alert -- Scott has already told me that he’s very happy with my work, and that he’s already submitted his report to HR. So,” she shrugged, “I guess I can finally stop moonlighting at the bar now.”

Delphine bent down, laying a soft kiss on Cosima’s lips. “Sounds like we have a lot to celebrate tonight, my heart. Why don’t you come over - you bring the wine, and I’ll cook?”

Cosima grinned, walking backwards toward the door. “Oh, I don’t know. I think I’d prefer we eat out.”

And eat out they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this took forever. Happy birthday, darling!


	23. Fish Lips Smut

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For tatarrific -- b/c she's an old lady

Delphine pulls back, bracing herself above the warm body undulating beneath her, a slight frown marring her flushed features. “Why are you doing that?”

“What?” Cosima breathes out, pupils blown wide.

“Kissing like that.” Hazel eyes flicker down to Cosima’s swollen lips.

“Like what?”

Delphine runs a hand through her hair, pushing back damp strands of gold from her face. “ _Comme un poisson_.”

“Excuse me?”

“Like a fish.”

Cosima pushes herself up on her elbows. “I do _not_ kiss like a fish.”

“Then why are you keeping your mouth closed?”

“Am I?”

“ _Oui._ ” Delphine puckers her lips, quite literally like a fish.

Tilting her head to the side, Cosima lifts one eyebrow. “Really? Don’t you think you’re exaggerating?”

“ _Non_.” She leans back down and presses her stiff lips against Cosima’s. “Does that feel good?”

Cosima groans, tilting her face away from Delphine’s kiss. “Okay, okay you made your point.” She sighs, ignoring Delphine’s smirk. “Scott and I had some, um, herbal therapy earlier. I guess I’m subconsciously doing it because I know you don’t like the taste.”

“It really doesn’t bother me.”

“Really?”

“Really.” Delphine shrugs. “But if it really bothers you, I won’t kiss your lips.”

“Now, I didn’t say that…”

“At least, not those lips.” Delphine slowly moves down Cosima’s body, friction sparking every inch of their bare skin. She pauses when she reaches her destination, spreads Cosima’s thighs, and drags her tongue through slick heat, eliciting a long, low moan. “There are other tastes I can savor.”


End file.
